Read Online Forbidden Fruit by Erica Spindler - Free Book Online Page B

I—”
    â€œYou could have gotten killed, too. You probably would have.” The cop looked him straight in the eyes. “Listen to me, Victor. This man, whoever he is, is a vicious killer. The kind not likely to be scared off by a boy. This was not a random act of violence. He came home with your mother, planning to kill her. He’s smart. We know that because he didn’t leave any evidence. Because he made sure he wasn’t seen. Our guess is, he’s done this before. If you had been there, he would have adjusted his plan to include killing you. Those are the facts, Victor. Ugly as they are.”
    â€œBut, I could have—”
    â€œNo. You couldn’t. If you had been in that apartment, you’d be dead. Period.”
    â€œAt least I would have been there, at least I could have tried to help her. At least she would have known that I…that I—” His voice broke, and embarrassed, he looked away.
    â€œShe knew you loved her, Victor. And she wouldn’t have wanted you dead.” He patted Santos’s clenched hands. “Let’s go talk to Detective Patterson. Maybe there’s something new.”
    â€œI doubt it. All I’ve gotten from him is the runaround.”
    Today was no different. More runaround. More bullshit. Santos stared at the detective, fury rampaging through him. He longed to lunge at the man. It would feel good, even though the burly officer would probably have him on his knees and cuffed before he landed the first blow.
    But if he did manage to get in just one blow, it would be worth it, Santos thought, itching to try. It would be worth any amount of pain or punishment, if he could erase the man’s arrogant, disinterested expression for just one moment.
    â€œLook,” Patterson was saying, “I know she was important to you, but I have other, more pressing cases. If we find anything, we’ll act on it.”
    Santos jumped to his feet, sending his chair crashing to the floor. “You son of a bitch, you’re not even trying. The only way you’re going to get something, is if the killer waltzes in here and confesses.”
    The detective folded his arms across his chest and cocked an eyebrow. “It happens.”
    Jacobs put his hand on Santos’s arm, as if sensing how close to violence he was, then shot his fellow officer a narrow-eyed glance. “Victor, we are trying. I promise you. But there’s nothing for us to go on. I told you, this guy was smart.”
    â€œSo you’re just going to let him go free? He’s out there. Don’t you care, doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
    â€œYeah, it does. I hate it. And so does Patterson. But all we can do is follow the leads we have and wait.”
    Santos shook his head. “Wait? What do you—”
    â€œHe’ll do it again,” Patterson interrupted dismissively, returning to the seat behind his desk. “He’ll do it again, and maybe he’ll make a mistake. And then we’ll get him.”
    Santos stared at the detective, disgust and hatred roiling inside him. “Why bust your asses on this, the guy’s only killing hookers. Right?” He fisted his fingers. “You think she was nothing. You think she was just a nobody hooker, so her murder doesn’t matter. Well, it does matter.” Santos took a step toward Patterson’s desk. “She was my mother, you bastard. I care. I give a shit.”
    â€œVictor—” Jacobs caught his arm “—come on. I’ll buy you a Coke.”
    Santos jerked his arm free of the cop’s grasp, not taking his gaze from Patterson’s. He narrowed his eyes. “I’m going to find out who did this. Do you understand? I’m going to find out who killed my mother, and I’m going to make him pay.”
    The detective made a sound of annoyed exasperation. “What can you do, Victor? You’re a kid.” He shook his head.